Griffin snakes his palm around the back of Aria’s neck and pulls her into another kiss. “I love you too. Thank goodness I just couldn’t hold back during ‘Glass Heart.’”
Aria giggles. “Even if that last song was written about you, ‘Glass Heart’ will always be you.”
“As long as it doesn’t become us.”
Aria shakes her head vehemently at the idea of a breakup song pertaining to them. “Never.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
“I mean, who else am I going to call out onto the stage with me? There aren’t a lot of willing partners.” Aria sings the words with a playful smirk on her lips.
Griffin barks a laugh. “I can promise you there’d be a line around the block if you were looking. But unfortunately for those guys, the spot’s already taken.”
“Yeah? I like the sound of that. Here to stay?”
“As long as you’ll have me.”
Aria takes in Griffin under the lights, and she’s certain that choosing him—to not let him slip away—is one of the best decisions she’s ever made. Her world has grown and expanded with him in it, and Aria is no longer chained by the impulse for perfection or limited by the walls she built years ago.
It’s difficult to remember the time before Griffin—like he’s been tethered to her by some invisible string all along—but Aria feels the echoes of her old life, the smallness, the fear wound around her. Even if from all appearances she was living large, her heart was locked away, her body wound tight with perfectionism. Griffin helped her break free from that, and in this new place there are so many more possibilities.
It’s like opening all of the windows in the house after winter, a fresh breeze carrying the promise of warmer days.
Life together is so much more beautiful. Boundless.
“I’m hoping you’ll stay,” Aria says, wistful eyes set upon him.
“That was my only plan.”
Even when the stage lights shut off, leaving them in total dark, Aria doesn’t want to go. Here in this moment withGriffin is all the best parts of her life tied into one. When she glances out, the venue is almost empty, only a few hardy fans waiting to witness her and Griffin’s entire encounter.
“I guess we should go,” Griffin says. “You know, before they physically kick us out.”
Aria smiles slowly, unhurried. “If we must.”
Griffin releases her from his arms, and Aria pushes away the swell of disappointment at pulling apart. He takes her hand, and when their eyes meet, they look at each other exchanging unsaid words, promises, and plans.
This was what all of those songs were about, all of those boy-meets-girl love songs.
One look at Griffin, one deep flutter of the heart, and Aria knows.
They just didn’t do the feeling justice.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Aria meets Griffin at his condo that afternoon, guitar case over her shoulder, writing notebook tucked into the front pocket. Usually she would work in her studio where she has all of the equipment to make it easy, but Griffin had a foundation meeting at the Wardens stadium, so it makes better logistical sense for the pair to meet here.
Aria knocks at the door.
“It’s open,” Griffin calls from inside.
Aria walks in, pulls the door shut, and flips the lock. She walks down toward the kitchen, talking. “You know, you really shouldn’t leave it open. A famous football player doesn’t need just anyone walking in.”
Griffin rounds the corner and snaps Aria up into his arms.
She yelps, then cries, “Mind the guitar!”
